


On Borrowed Time

by stickmarionette



Category: Hamilton - Miranda (Broadway Cast) RPF
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Supernatural Elements, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Writing Like You're Running Out of Time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-18 00:00:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13088187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stickmarionette/pseuds/stickmarionette
Summary: Jon distinctly remembered thinking more than a few times how refreshing it was for a for-real genius to not be absolutely batshit insane for once.





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zipperkitten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zipperkitten/gifts).



> With thanks to shihadchick for beta reading. 
> 
> I should say that there is a single mention of Donald Trump in here.

"Beads," Jon announced as he barged through the open door of Lin's dressing room.

He briefly thought better of his life choices at the sight of Lin curled up on the sofa, gold Beats over his ears, eyes closed as if in sleep. But then Lin sat up easily and pushed the headphones off, beaming like the gift of Jon's presence was better than Christmas morning.

The smile cut into the perpetual cloud of exhaustion, took years off his face. "Beads? Did I hear that right?"

"You did," Jon confirmed, nudging the door closed.

Lin beckoned with his fingers. "Context. Gimme some context. Are we talking decoration? Mardi Gras? Sex toys? What?"

Jon spared a moment to feel vaguely disconcerted and intrigued that Lin's brain went _there_ of all places.

"I'm gonna get the door taken off my room and put a bead curtain in. Really make it cozy up in here."

Lin tilted his head like he was picturing it. "Like having our own little apartment. I love it."

"That a yes?" Jon asked, already mentally halfway down the corridor to talk to backstage management.

Maybe Lin could tell that for once he didn't have Jon's entire undivided attention, because he sat up and went from casual friendly interest to megawatt beaming _intent_ in a millisecond. "When have I ever said no to you?"

Jon could feel his sanity eroding every time Lin bit his lip like that. Yep, that was another piece gone. Who could blame him, anyway? That was flirting. That was _unmistakably_ flirting. Which was fine. More than fine, really. Enjoyable. Like a game, or a joke they were both in on.

Trouble was, sometimes Jon couldn't tell whether the joke was that they didn't mean it, or that they did.

"You might start, and then where will I be?"

"That's never gonna happen. Pinky swear," Lin said very solemnly, and waved his pinky. "Come here."

Jon bit back a giggle. "I believe you."

"Come over here," Lin repeated.

"Fine, fine," Jon grumbled, but he went, and he schooled his face to match Lin's solemnity, and they pinky swore on it.

"Happy? Can I go tell Jason we need someone to come and take the door off?"

"What's the hurry? We're going to be roomies for a while." Lin seemed to get stuck on that word; his smile acquired a twist. "The year we shared a studio apartment midtown. That's so cute I might tell the internet."

Lin enjoyed telling the internet his business more than anyone Jon had never met, Lea included, and for a while Jon thought that was all it was.

 _Haven't felt shame since my twenties and you know what, I don't miss it a fucking bit,_ in his own (slightly worrying) words.

Being a committed social media cave hermit himself, it took Jon a while to feel out the amount of thought and care Lin put into his "oversharing". The same calculation must have gone into asking Jon to be in his youtube video all those years ago, although try as he might Jon couldn't make himself see the memory in anything sharper than glowing soft-focus.

Lin wasn't careless about anything. He was the type of person you'd say yes to without a second thought, no matter what they were asking. Which was why Jon had said yes to nine minutes of stage time, to a show he knew nothing about, and couldn't even imagine regretting it.

 

*

 

Jon came back from being gently laughed at by the entire stage management office, who nevertheless promised to get Operation Studio Apartment underway, and paused at the threshold to Lin's domain.

Lin had his eyes closed again. They were five days into tech and Jon was - mostly - fine. Nine minutes stage time and all that. He didn't have to deal with thousands of words and hundreds of pages of music and Andy's choreography. It was a different story for the others. Even Renee, perpetual queen of all she surveyed, was looking a little bleary eyed in the mornings, and Javi cradled his coffee cup like he'd kill for it.

It was bad enough for the rest of them without having to think about rewrites and the media and making a hundred decisions about the show and all the other things that demanded Lin's time during any given day. Although the black circles around his eyes were murder, Jon couldn't recall seeing him in anything less than excited good humor. Like there was nothing he'd rather be doing, and there could never be enough of it.

Lin's eyes cracked open and he grinned up at Jon and Jon -

He still got that heart-pounding rush sometimes. Nothing to worry about, nothing serious. It was just too hard not to thrill at being the sole recipient of Lin's attention; hard not to _wonder_. Lin was kind and good and thoughtful and surely he was worthy of being entrusted to hold Jon's beating heart, if Jon was brave enough to hand it to him.

Some things were just better left in the realm of fantasy.

"You wanna hear some good news?"

That was almost too casual.

"Always."

"Well, come here and cuddle me in the style to which I have become accustomed and then I'll tell you the good news."

Lin patted the spot next to him and raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"When you put it that way…" Jon considered playing at being difficult; discarded the idea as utterly pointless and counterproductive. He sat and opened his arms.

Lin burrowed in like he wanted to climb under Jon's skin. The air was stifling but he was pleasantly cool to the touch. Jon set himself to combing non-existent tangles out of the ends of that long, silky hair, and found himself grinning at Lin's contented hum. "What are you gonna do when I'm gone?"

Lin cranked his head; they were so close his lashes brushed Jon's cheek. "Are you leaving?"

_Not if I can help it._

"You tell me. You're in charge."

"Mm. That's a little - you know I like to try to pretend that's not a thing. Jeffrey's in charge. Oskar's in charge. Tommy and Lac and Andy, kinda. I'm just - "

" - the reason we're all here."

Lin's smile had hooks in it. "If you insist."

Jon was never winning that argument, if Lin was in a dodging mood. He abandoned it in favor of prodding Lin physically instead. "Where's your end of the bargain?"

Lin pulled away far enough to look Jon in the eye. "Oh, the good news? Just the largest advance sales in Broadway history."

"Holy shit."

Jon wasn't surprised. Impressed, yes, and he made sure Lin could see it. But surprised would imply he set limitations for Lin in his head, when he knew not to do anything of the kind.

"Congratulate me."

"Congratulations," Jon said, and kissed Lin's cheek for good measure. "We should celebrate."

"Yeah, we should. Let's go out after we're done today."

The soft thin skin under Lin's eyes was so dark it looked bruised. Jon fought the urge to tell him to go home and sleep.

"...only if you're up to it."

"Why would I not be?"

"I don't know how you have any energy."

"Neither. Well - I do. It's caffeine."

"You're allowed to stop, you know. It's nice. I can show you how."

Lin tilted adorably. Jon had the beginnings of a headache just looking at him. "No no no, I can't."

"Don't be stupid. You're gonna burn out."

"You're adorable," Lin said. He sat up, cupped Jon's jaw in his hand and kissed the crown of his head. "Life's short. Let's go out."

 

*

 

Hours deep into celebratory drinks, Jon excused himself to go to the bathroom and get a break from the noise.

There was just one other guy in there, drying his hands with a bored look on his face. Kind of nondescript. So unremarkable Jon was already well into forgetting him when he looked up and did a visible double-take at Jon.

So: option one, _omg a famous person,_ or option two, he was being checked out, which was kind of nice either way, but then the guy started talking.

"Where are they?"

Deep, resonant voice, far too big for his body, and it hit Jon like someone dragging a full set of nails down a chalkboard.

"Excuse me?"

"The one who's been giving you top-ups," the man said impatiently.

Jon edged backwards and eyed the door as subtly as he could. He'd have to get past the guy to get out. Not good. "Not sure what you're talking about..."

"You don't know. Huh." The man's brows smoothed out and then he was smirking. "Do you think they'll notice if I do this?"

He pointed a long, spindly finger at Jon's chest and Jon got goosebumps all over, and all his veins lit up sickly green under the skin. It was suddenly unbearably cold, too, though it had been stiflingly hot seconds before. He started shivering uncontrollably and couldn't stop and there were black spots filling his vision and his knees were weak as jelly and he was fading -

"I look away for five seconds..." A familiar hand gripped his cheek and warmth flooded back into his body, driving out the numbness and the cold. "Groff? You with me?"

His vision came back in patches; first blazing green light, and then warm dark eyes filled with worry.

"Lin?"

Lin looked immensely relieved. "You okay? Dumb question. Gimme a sec, alright? Let me deal with this."

Cold flooded back into Jon the moment Lin stopped touching him, and the shudders only stopped when he reached back and grabbed Jon's hand. Jon held on like it was a lifeline. For all he knew, it was.

The other man's smirk wobbled. "You've got a lot of nerve for a dead soul thief."

He didn't say _dead_ like it was a threat. More like it was a descriptor.

"I'm not a thief. And you stole my line," Lin said mildly. "Do you attack random people all the time, or only in my house?" Which made no sense, but Jon was too frazzled to dwell on that for long.

The man held up his hands with studied nonchalance. "Hey, I wasn't gonna kill him. If you weren't going around giving out blessings like that, I'd never have noticed either of you."

"You still haven't."

"What?"

The corner of Lin's mouth twitched like he was biting back a laugh. "Was that not clear enough? Get out of here before I change my mind about that stunt you just pulled."

"Don't threaten me. I could make this messy for you," the man said, and glared at Jon all narrow-eyed. Jon braced himself for god knows what, but then something drew the man's gaze down to Lin's feet and he went pale as a sheet. "Holy shit - "

Jon made himself focus. There was something weird about Lin's shadow, the size and shape of it - and was it _moving_?

"No, you really can't," Lin said quietly.

The odd man scurried back from Lin's shadow like it was going to bite him. His back hit the wall and he curled in on himself and covered his head with his hands. "Nodon'teatmeplease! I didn't know! I, uh, I was blinded and ignorant! Please forgive me!"

"I know you didn't," Lin said, in the same pleasant, friendly tone of voice he'd used to order a drink. "Let's not see each other again, okay?"

The man slowly uncurled as the shadows retreated, still tossing frightened glances in Lin's direction. He shook himself and bowed low. "As you wish."

Between one blink and the next, he vanished as if he'd never been in the derelict bathroom of an overpriced midtown bar.

Jon realised he was panting like he'd run a mile and tried to stop. He was still cold and light-headed, and when Lin tugged lightly on his hand his knees nearly went again.

"What - what just - "

"Hey, look at me." Lin examined him carefully, his brows wrinkled. "Motherfucker. He took a lot out of you. Don't punch me, okay? I mean, unless you don't - Anyway."

"Why would I - "

Lin kissed him.

This they'd never done. Pecks on the forehead and wet smacking kisses on the cheek and jokey messing around was one thing. None of it was serious, and now he knew the difference.

Lin's lips were soft and weirdly cold and then he tilted his head and Jon's mouth dropped open and suddenly it was scalding, a white-hot rush crackling through him like being struck by lightning. Jon's head was on fire and his ears didn't work right and his entire body felt feverish and he heard himself make a noise that was nothing like protest.

It could've been hours later when Lin pulled away, with a funny half-smile playing about his face. He seemed torn between satisfaction and sheepishness. It was goddamn adorable and without a doubt he knew it.

"Feeling better?"

Jon licked his lips and tasted ripe apricot in his mouth and ozone in the back of his throat. He felt indescribably better. Hell, he felt healthier than he had in years.

He thought about playing it cool. _Buy me a drink first,_ something silly and light like that. His skin was still tingling.

"What the fuck. What the fuck was...all that."

Lin started to run his hand through his hair, remembered the ponytail halfway and let his arm fall. He looked more tired than ever. "It's kind of a long story."

Jon distinctly remembered thinking more than a few times how refreshing it was for a for-real genius to not be absolutely batshit insane for once.

"I - I have to go," he blurted, and made for the door like the devil was on his tail.


	2. 2

Jon knew he was in trouble the first time they met.

He hadn't known what to expect. Lin didn't have a reputation then; nothing more than vague word of mouth that made him sound implausible in the best ways.

Karen tried with elaborate arm waving; she eventually threw her hands up and said _look, you'll see_. _Just trust me._

In person he was surprisingly slight, disarmingly direct, and his outsized charm could bowl a person over.

"I'm sorry I missed seeing the show uptown."

"Wasn't an easy venue to get to," Lin said dismissively. "It'll be better on Broadway. Come see us once we're done cooking the meal."

"I'm looking forward to it. How's the writing going?"

Lin ducked his head and looked up at Jon through his lashes. "It's - uh. Ask Tommy when he gets here if you want an honest answer. No, it's going. Not as fast as I'd like, but - I just want it to be perfect, you know? How many people get a chance to put their little college show on Broadway? I know there's no guarantee of success. But I'm gonna do whatever I can to help it along."

Jon knew the odds too. But faced with Lin's gleaming dark eyes, he couldn't help but believe.

"So what's next after getting your show up?"

"World domination?" Lin fluttered his eyelashes, smiled real sweet.

"Stop by the Tonys first," Jon volleyed back. Somehow he could tell Lin wasn't joking.

"You gonna be my date?"

Jon swallowed. "Only if you have a shot at winning."

Lin grinned like a cat spotting a herd of canaries. "Well, I better get to work."

Being the focus of all his attention was a heady thing. Jon was leaning forward, all caught up in his energy, before he managed to catch himself at it.

Fortunately, Lin broke the spell by looking away first; his face brightened and he waved vigorously. "Hey, Tommy. Over here."

"Tommy" was a slight, unassuming guy around the same age as Lin. "Tommy Kail. I'm the director."

Lin slung a casual arm around Tommy's shoulder. "He means the show, but also my life. Basically we're married."

"I don't remember being offered any conjugal rights," Tommy said, drier than the Sahara.

"That's because you already have them," Lin said. "Tommy keeps me in line. Which is basically a full-time job."

Tommy scoffed, but his eyes were soft. "You still owe me a song this week. Get to it."

"Yes, sir," Lin said, then switched the target of his crooked grin, and Jon found himself smiling back like a fool. "But right now Jon's gonna stand there and let me admire him so we can film this thing."

"Is he really?" Tommy asked, amused.

Jon was so fucked. "How could I refuse?"

 

*

 

Lin and Tommy got him tickets for Heights. They were good tickets; he had a great view when there weren't tears obscuring his vision.

The songs left in their wake a sort of formless longing, which was, he thought, a pretty extraordinary form of magic.

 

*

 

Way down the track, once they knew each other a little better, Tommy remembered to ask Jon how he got roped into doing the video.

"Let me guess, Lin batted his eyelashes at you until you said yes."

Jon laughed. "More or less. Is that common?"

"Oh yeah. Are you into it?"

"Uh."

"Sorry, let me rephrase. Is that making you uncomfortable?" Tommy said. He appeared to be at least half serious.

"Not uncomfortable, no," Jon said slowly, still lost.

Tommy shook his head. "You've seen how he acts around me. That's his baseline. Actually, no, it's mine. He adjusts to your comfort level. Does that help?"

"Yeah. I think so."

"Does he drunk dial you at 3 in the morning to overshare?"

"Uh, no?"

Jon ruthlessly suppressed the part of him that wanted Lin to call and ramble into his voicemail at all hours. It was just - he hadn't known that was an option.

"See? Kid gloves."

Lin chose that moment to step into their conversation.

"Are you talking about me?" he demanded, sounding delighted. "Please say yes."

Tommy smirked. "If I say yes, are you going to get a swelled head?"

"Almost certainly."

"Then no. We were talking about the party."

Lin rolled his eyes. "No, you weren't."

Tommy chuckled. "What gave me away?"

"Wasn't you. Jon has no poker face," Lin said, so affectionately that Jon could feel himself flushing.

"Excuse you, I'm a professional bullshitter. I've won awards."

"I know you are. But so am I," Lin had said, laughing.

 

*

 

It'd been a while, but Jon could swear Lin had aged five years since they last saw each other.

"You don't look so good."

Lin rubbed his eyes, which just drew attention to the truly spectacular eyebags he was working on. "Aw, thanks. You say the nicest things."

"You know that's not what I meant," Jon said, exasperated. "Are you taking care of yourself?"

"Yeah, yeah. It's just hard not having a show running. I got used to it."

Which made no sense whatsoever. In theory not having a show on should mean having less to do, but Jon had never known Lin to be doing less than five things at once.

He was a total control freak and perfectionist, except he was too nice to yell at people so it just came out in other ways; he had no shame, which was both fun and horrifying; and was as far as Jon could tell never anything other than sweetness and light in front of company.

Despite being one of the busiest people Jon knew, Lin somehow still managed to be available when Jon really wanted to talk to or see him. Sometimes it took him a day to reply to a text message, and he claimed to be even worse about emails, but he always knew when it was serious. He made Jon feel better with a few words, a joke, one of those beaming smiles. Just hanging out with him reset Jon's equilibrium back to even.

He was a magical fucking unicorn person and Jon loved him.

Lin always made the appropriate disgusted noises and clucked like a mother hen while Jon complained about terrible boyfriends and his sad adventures in the famous gays dating pool.

"You could do so much better," he'd say, heart in his eyes, when Jon was feeling sorry for himself. "Anyone would be lucky to date you. I'd date you."

Jon's traitor heart fluttered. It wasn't his fault Lin was a charm monster. He made you believe he meant it.

"I bet you say that to all the boys."

Lin clutched at his chest dramatically. "Ouch. Are you implying I'm easy?"

"Are you not?" Jon asked. Not that he had any real gauge one way or another, but he couldn't picture Lin being anything but open and giving in this as he was in everything else.

"Hurtful." Lin picked at a loose thread on his oversized hoodie, bit his lip. Looked back up at Jon through his lashes, heartbreakingly solemn. "Seriously, though. The next time some asshole tries it, you gotta tell me."

Jon couldn't meet that steady gaze without going all warm and giddy, and it had to stop before he fucking floated away or something. This was too much goddamn earnestness for him to handle sober.

"You're gonna, what, destroy them with your puppy dog eyes?"

Lin shook his head. "You've never seen me angry. Don't put me on a pedestal."

"Maybe I can't help it," Jon confessed. "It's all that incurable optimism you have."

Lin snorted. "Trust me, it's not incurable."

"Well, yeah. People suck," Jon agreed. Everyone could manage idealism as a kid. The challenge was in keeping it.

"No, that's not - People are amazing and they suck. I believe in possibility and doing my best. I don't believe in such a thing as too much optimism."

Incurable. And a hopeless romantic to boot. But it was kinda nice to bathe in that much positive energy, and Jon was not in the business of kicking puppies.

 

*

 

Then came Hamilton.

The opportunity of a lifetime, Tommy joked. _How would you like to have all your evenings taken up and be on stage for less than 10 minutes?_

He probably knew that didn't matter, because Lin was sitting beside him vibrating out of his skin with excitement.

"But I mean, that _song_ \- " Jon said. He couldn't quite conjure up words and hoped he sounded sufficiently awe-stuck. "I don't know if I'm flattered or offended that you think I can do that."

Jon had watched Lin's hair grow out via occasional sightings; now that it was properly long and tied up he looked older and somehow softer. Almost distinguished, less like the boy Jon had first met.

"Oh, there's some venom behind those baby blues. Don't act like there isn't." Lin's eyes twinkled like a cartoon character's.

Jon was used to being looked at and not seen. Lin had a way of making him feel not just seen but known, in the least scary way possible.

There was deafening buzz around the show; it was no doubt brilliant because Lin and Tommy and all their friends were brilliant; and he'd be doing a favor for a friend.

Jon said yes just to watch Lin's face light up.

 

*

 

Then he saw the show.

Felt wrung out, empty afterwards. Like something had been dislodged inside him and set free to fill the air inside the Rodgers. He couldn't stop crying, until even Lin looked worried.

From the looks of the faces around Jon, he wasn't alone in feeling that way. It was almost palpable on the air.

 

*

 

Tech at the Rodgers was like living inside a carefully sealed bubble of determined effort and good cheer. Tommy didn't look like much, but somehow his slight frame was enough to keep the noise out. Helped that Lin was wandering around in a hoodie that proclaimed 'rehearsal is the best part', initiating freestyle sessions and distributing coffee and laughter. Jon got a headache just thinking about everything that had to be rattling around in his brain.

The theater was empty with everyone out on break. From the stage, Jon could only see rows and rows of seats beneath the blazing lights. Tommy out in the audience, deep in conversation with Andy, looking as frazzled as Tommy ever got.

Jon made sure they could see him, sketched an elaborate bow, touched his heart, and took another. Held his arms out.

Tommy caught his eye and barked a laugh. "Ladies and gentlemen, stage and screen's Jonathan Groff," he called out.

 _Yep, still got it_ , Jon thought, and then jumped at the sound of applause from the wings. He turned to see Lin leaning against one of the wooden posts at the far end of the stage, grinning from ear to ear.

"Stage and screen's Jonathan Groff in my show."

He sounded spectacularly smug. It was terribly flattering.

"Don't wear it out," Jon said.

"Oh, I'm gonna. Did you eat? Do you want dumplings?"

"Yes and yes. Did _you_ eat?"

"I will now. Lemme just drop this off with Tommy and I'll catch up with you."

"How many changes is that?"

"Fifteen," Lin said without missing a beat. "Ten more to go. We're getting there."

Jon shook his head. "I don't know how you do it."

"It has to be perfect," Lin said. He strode out to center stage and looked up into the mezzanine with its blaze of lights. "I wanna make something that's worthy of you guys. Something that moves people, makes 'em cry and laugh and experience every emotion they're capable of experiencing, something that makes 'em think and lose their minds. So I'm going at it with everything. There's my blood in the loom."

 

*

 

It had to be a special talent, to tell a truth so outrageous it'll only ever be taken as a joke.

 

*

 

Jon thought about calling in sick the next day except nobody called in sick to tech and he'd never hear the end of it.

He pulled up the browser on his phone and started typing in the address bar.

_Death eater_

Nope, that was a Harry Potter thing.

_Vampire_

No, wait -

_Energy vampire_

Urgh.

By the time he got to typing _undead_ even googling the words felt too silly to be borne. He'd just have to suck it up and ask.

Despite his new determination and big boy pants, Jon breathed a little easier the next day when he saw the closed door of Lin's dressing room. Especially since backstage management had already come by, taken Jon's door and put in the requested bead curtain with their usual terrifying efficiency. Jon curled up on his little sofa and tried to screw up the courage to go knock on Lin's door.

A half hour later, he was still on the sofa.

Lin stuck his head through the bead curtain. He looked exactly the same as he always had, no horns or bat wings in sight, a little silly and unfortunate amounts of adorable with a bead wig and tiara.

"Can I come in?"

"The invitation is implied," Jon gestured at the curtain. His stupid brain flashed to vampires and thresholds and he hid a wince.

Lin's mouth quirked. "Is that how it works?"

"I'm perfectly capable of telling you to go away if I want alone time. Don't you worry."

"That's fair. All right," Lin said. He came in and sat beside Jon on the beat-up sofa. "How are you feeling?"

"Please tell me I had a very vivid hallucination," Jon tried.

"I can't tell you that," Lin said. "That would be gaslighting."

"Not even if I ask you to?"

Lin's mouth twitched. "Still no."

Jon reached out and laced their fingers together and Lin smiled like the sun coming out.

"Okay, so. What the hell was that guy talking about?"

Lin sighed. "My fault. He saw something on you, recognized it probably came from someone like me, and decided to call me out because he's not very smart."

He made it sound all very normal and matter of course instead of absolutely insane.

_Okay, one thing at a time._

"What 'something'?"

Lin grinned sheepishly. "Uh. This is gonna sound weird. Just so you know."

"Can't be weirder than when it happened to me," Jon said, as lightly as he could manage.

"I wouldn't bet on that," Lin said wryly. "Okay. Where to start. If you're miserable or tired or sick, sometimes I'd just...give you a boost. That's a thing I can do. I never thought someone was gonna see it on you and make something of it."

"Why'd you do it?"

"Because I wanted to make you feel better," Lin said with the air of someone stating the blatantly obvious, but his eyes on Jon were so full and earnest Jon had to look away before he melted.

He swallowed to clear his throat. "You're like him. But not exactly. Right?"

"Yeah."

"So. Uh. Are you not - "

_Human?_

It sounded too silly to be said out loud.

"Rude," Lin chided.

"He was afraid of you."

"Smart. I could've taken his soul right there for what he did."

Jon had to play that back in his head to make it make sense. Didn't help. "What."

"Eaten? Consumed? Harvested? See, every single one of those sounds worse. The point is he's not going to hurt you anymore. I'm sorry he spotted you at all." Lin looked like he was working up quite the froth of guilt; Jon was glad when Lin's phone buzzed, drawing his attention. "Fuck, sorry, forgot I have a meeting in five."

"Don't you have enough to do? What for?"

"Disney," Lin said smugly.

"What?!"

It probably said something about Jon that his reaction to this news was about as strong as his reaction to...the other thing.

 

*

 

"What did he mean, soul thief?"

Lin looked entirely nonplussed at Jon barging into his dressing room and just blurting this shit out. Part of Jon wanted him to look different - scarier, something. But he was just the same old huggable-looking Lin.

"I'm not a thief. Sometimes I'm an enforcer, when I have to be."

Jon closed the door behind him. He tried hard not to make it into a thing, but couldn't help a nervous twitch, turning a swing into a slam that made a mason jar Jon had never noticed before rattle in place on Lin's little desk.

Jon instinctively reached out to straighten it and almost jumped out of his skin when it rattled again in his hand.

There was a label slapped on it in Lin's messy handwriting.

> _TJ_
> 
> _DO NOT OPEN_

"Stop that," Lin said mildly.

Jon let go of the jar like it was on fire. "Sorry."

"Not you. Him. Hey, motherfucker, you really want me to hurry up and make it worse, you can keep doing that."

"What - what is that?"

Lin hesitated. "Would you believe, someone I've been insulting on stage for months?"

"T - Thomas Jefferson?!"

"Doesn't like being held against his will. Imagine that," Lin said archly. "I came across him wandering around incorporeal, scaring people and generally being a dick, so I sealed him in here."

"What are you gonna do with him?"

"I haven't decided yet. Send him back, probably."

"Back - "

"Where he's meant to go."

The mason jar rattled so hard it fell off the desk. Jon could very distantly hear angry shrieking, like a horror film with the volume turned way down, and had to tamp down the almost irresistible urge to flee the room and possibly the country.

Of course because it was Lin and Jon might as well be tissue paper, Lin saw what was happening immediately and for a brief, agonizing moment Jon had to watch him toy with the idea of pretending he hadn't, to be considerate or something. "You probably want your door back, huh," Lin said ruefully.

"No," Jon blurted, relieved to find that he meant it. "I don't think you're going to hurt me."

Lin beamed. "No one's gonna hurt you. You have no idea how tempting it was to quote Sweeny there."

 

*

 

Lin looked increasingly haggard as tech went on. Whatever his preferred source of energy, he obviously wasn't getting much of it, and Jon caught Tommy and Chris and all the rest of Lin's phalanx of mother hens shooting him worried looks in between rehearsals.

Jon was pathetically thankful for the intensity of their labour. The show swallowed up his every waking thought; when he wasn't rehearsing he was watching, and getting swallowed up in what they were making together. Band solos gave him goosebumps. Doing harmonies for Wait For It felt like floating.

What they were making felt too big to be contained by the Rodgers. Jon wondered what manner of magic _that_ was.

He popped his head in on Lin pulling his hair out over his little keyboard. "Edit not going well?"

Lin straightened out of his slouch and smiled wearily at Jon. "I'm in a fight with _One Last Ride._ "

"What, why? It's great, don't hurt it," Jon joked awkwardly, like he was really gonna tell Lin how to write a song.

Lin shook his head and narrowed his eyes at the screen. "It needs more. Dunno what yet, but I'll know when it's perfect."

A few hours later, Lin bounded into rehearsal, beaming. He waved Tommy over.

"I got it. Bring Chris."

Tommy raised his eyebrows. "One Last Ride?"

"Uh huh."

Chris came back in with an almost shell-shocked look on his face, shaking his head.

"Yeah, it's done."

Jon wondered what _blood in the loom_ really meant.

 

*

 

The next day Lin swept out onto the stage where the rest of the cast were between scenes, brandishing his phone. Apparently the revelation that Renee had signed up for Twitter was more important than rewrites.

Lin declared he was going to give her a crash course and disappeared with her phone, with a helplessly laughing Renee chasing after him.

"Aren't you happy I did it?"

"Of course I am! But who's setting this up for you? Anthony? No, no, that won't do. He's a sweet child and there're some real demons out there."

Jon choked on his iced tea and then had to endure some very strange looks from Jasmine and Leslie.

 

*

 

Five days til first preview.

Jon went into Anthony and Oak's dressing room to return a book and and found Anthony slumped on their little sofa wearing the universal dead expression of someone fed up. Jon gestured a question, got the little nod, and sat down beside him to wait him out.

Ten minutes later, Lin bounded in, banishing his iPod. "Anthony, my dude. You know the drill."

They all knew the drill. It involved Lin popping his head into each dressing room in turn and raising his eyebrows expectantly over a pre-recorded beat until they managed a verse or two. His idea of a pre-show warm-up. Jon was spared because Lin was benevolent and not into embarrassing people.

Jon tried to communicate _danger danger abort_ through his expression.

"Nah, man. Not today," Anthony said quietly.

Lin's eyes narrowed. "How'd the audition go?"

Anthony slumped down even further. "I don't wanna talk about it."

Lin tapped his iPod off and sat down next to Anthony, not even stopping to wait for Jon to make room. "Which motherfucker do I need to shank?"

Jon froze.

"Uh - "

"Dude."

Anthony's tone was incredulous but he actually looked kind of impressed. Also touched.

Lin met his gaze evenly. "You don't want to tell me, don't tell me."

"Drop it," Anthony snapped.

"Okay. I just did." Lin kept looking at Anthony. "Unless you wanna tell me."

Anthony buried his face in his hands. His voice came out very small. "Maybe it's how I talk. I should change how I talk."

Jon opened his mouth to disagree and shut it again at the look on Lin's face. He thought he saws a soft green light pass over Anthony, just for a second, right before Lin spoke.

"Nah. You don't need to do that. You just need to make people understand."

 

*

 

They left Anthony almost bouncing off the walls. Which was his default state but more than a little disturbing in the circumstances.

"What did you do?"

"Just gave him a little boost. Couldn't stand him feeling terrible about himself because of some fucking elitist shithead."

Of course that was what Lin did with his terrifying power. Jon could feel the overfond sappy smile taking over his face. "You're such a softie."

"I try. Speaking of elitist shitheads, you should really get dressed. We're on in ten."

"I know, Kimmy's coming up," Jon said dismissively. No power on earth and off it was going to break him of his habit of a lifetime of getting dressed as late as possible. And the miraculous thing was, he wasn't even the worst one in the cast, so long as Leslie was around.

Lin shook his head. "You're lucky I like you so much."

"Aren't I just." Jon looked around for the terrifying mason jar; got actual chills down his spine when he couldn't spot it among the junk on Lin's desk. If Lin could corral undead shithead presidents and make anyone feel better or worse - "Can you, I don't know, make Trump go away?"

A part of him expected Lin to laugh; could feel another part of his sanity breaking away when Lin frowned instead. "Can't. Too much hate and worship feeding that thing. I need - I need to be stronger."

"You're kidding me."

"What, you thought that garbage dump was a human being?" As venomous as he'd ever heard Lin, that. Angrier than he got about theater etiquette and subway manspreaders, the previous champions in Jon's catalogue of Lin's rare grumpy moments. "Maybe once. Not enough soul left to take."

Jon's brain flat-out refused to process the new information about the orange one.

"How many of...you...are there just walking around?"

Lin held out his hand. Jon took it without a second thought, and his vision flared. There was a thin film of green on Lin's door, over the walls, the windows. It seemed to cover the entire theatre.

"Too many," Lin said. "But they know not to do anything around me, especially not now."

"Is this why the Cheneys didn't come back stage?" Jon said jokingly.

"I'm not saying," Lin said. He seemed to be dead serious.

 _In my house_ , Lin had said. And Jon saw what he meant, now; the green rippled outwards from the Rodgers as far as the eye could see.

"Are those like boundary markings for territory?"

"Not territory. Home. This is the theater. This is how I sustain myself. You probably already guessed that."

He hadn't thought about it because he hadn't wanted to.

"Does - does it hurt them? The people you take from?"

"You tell me. You've watched my shows," Lin murmured.

Jon had. He'd watched Hamilton for a week straight and felt - drained, yes, but also exhilarated and inspired and energised.

Lin hadn't looked nearly as bad then, with the show on every night. "Aren't you - hungry?"

"Yeah. Holding out for previews."

"What happens when you don't have a show on? Do you just starve?"

"Write like you're running out of time," Lin said quietly.

The overhead speakers crackled. _This is your five minute call. Five minutes, everyone._

 

*

 

The Alexander Hamilton Awareness Society sent them pistol-shaped cupcakes.

Jon picked one up and waved it in Lin's general direction. Lin opened his mouth and Jon proceeded to totally fail at stuffing the cupcake into his mouth.

He looked both ridiculous and adorable with frosting on his nose.

 

*

 

Jon dreamed of the sky glowing green and covered with black eyes all staring at him. He knew he should look away but it was far easier to just stare back.

"Don't," Lin's voice said sharply, and the glow receded a little. "Don't look."

_Why not? I'm fine. I can take it._

"That's not even close to being the point," Lin said. He took Jon in his arms and cradled his head and cracked a crooked, sad smile. "It's fine if you can't handle it. It's fine."

 

*

 

Jon woke up panting and sweating like he'd run a marathon, and it took him a moment to remember why the alarm clock had gone so early.

First preview. The world was gonna see their show.

That thought and the associated adrenaline rush was enough to drive everything else out of his mind. Almost.

 

*

 

"What's going on?"

Jon's feet came to an unwitting stop at the sound of Tommy's voice drifting out of the open door of Lin's dressing room. There was a note in unflappable Tommy's voice that he'd never heard before.

"Nothing. Focus. We've got work to do."

"Funny, I was going to say the same to you."

"I'm focused. I know my shit. Andy hasn't scolded me for being out of my line for two whole days - "

"You look terrible," Tommy said.

Lin laughed. "Thanks, man. I appreciate it."

"You know what I meant." Tommy paused and continued in a much different, almost gentle tone. "Do what you need to do. Don't worry about the rest."

"I'll be fine. Go check on Daveed, he's talking himself into a mental breakdown."

"Trying to get rid of me?"

"You're making Groffsauce nervous," Lin said, making Jon jump.

"Yeah, I'm doing that," Tommy muttered as he closed the door behind him. "Ah, King Groffrey."

"You know about this," Jon said accusingly.

"About what," Tommy said, deadpan.

Jon glared at him. "This! The - you know."

Tommy's expression became shut off and serious all of a sudden, in a way Jon had hardly ever seen him. He glanced around, lowered his voice. "Lin's a storyteller. My job is to make his vision real."

_Not helpful!_

"What - "

Tommy cut right through his protests. "I can't help you be okay with any of this. I'm very good, like ridiculously good at managing people, but I can't do that. Also this is a bad time to have my King George freak out on me. Is that what's happening?"

"I'm not! I'm fine," Jon said, and realised as he was saying it that it was more or less true.

Tommy narrowed his eyes in that way he had that made a person feel ten feet tall and kind of naked at the same time. Jon fought the urge to either preen or squirm for what felt like minutes, until Tommy nodded. "Okay. Have a good show."

 

*

 

The audience screamed loud enough to shake the rafters, loud enough to rattle Jon's bones. They screamed so loud and so long for Lin that he could've floated away on it.

Jon watched from the wings and could have swore he saw lightning flash between beats.

At intermission Jon came out to check on everyone and Jasmine collapsed into him head first. She was shaking.

Daveed was curled up in a corner looking shell-shocked. Lin crept up silent as a shadow, so unobtrusive no one accosted him on the way, hugged his shoulders and whispered into his ear until he barked out a laugh.

Jon didn't realise he was crying until his vision went all blurry at the bows. The applause rained down like thunder until his ears rang, and when it was all over and the lights went down he wiped at his eyes and saw that everyone else was in much the same state.

 

*

 

The only one who didn't look like they'd just unexpectedly achieved flight was Tommy, who wore the same old inscrutable smile. The only thing that betrayed him was a certain redness around the eyes.

"Well done. Remember, we get to do this all over again tomorrow. So go home and get a good night's sleep, I don't care how. Shoo."

He clapped and somehow that broke the spell, the energy rooting them all in place dispersing all at once. A wave of giggles swept through their huddle and people began to break off in twos and threes, but slowly as if the moment was too precious to leave.

By the time Jon felt ready to leave the Rodgers bubble he was one of the few cast members still hanging around. He poked his head into Lin's dressing room to say good night and found it empty.

Something told him to go back up to the stage, and sure enough, Lin was standing there alone in the middle of the turntable, looking out of place in an over-sized t-shirt and faded jeans. His face was no longer haggard. His eyes were closed, his face upturned, basking in the stage lights. He was glowing - literally, actually, green light pouring out of him glowing.

Jon cleared his throat. "Is this a bad time?"

Lin looked like he'd been caught in an embarrassing sex act. "Please pretend you didn't see that."

"You look much better," Jon said valiantly, in an attempt to do just that. Felt oddly naked to be out on stage without the crown and robes, even though the seats were empty. Emptier than the place ought to be, probably.

"I feel amazing. What a show!"

Lin was still glowing in pulses.

"Okay, I'm sorry. You're still - " Jon gestured helplessly.

Lin closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his hands clenching into fists. The glow faded, and his eyes opened.

"Oops," he grinned like a kid who'd just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "That was a lot in one go."

Jon steeled himself and reached for Lin, skittish like he was reaching into a fire. His skin was hot to the touch. "Can I - "

"Yes, you'll be fine, what - "

Jon took Lin's face in his hands and pressed their mouths together, butterfly-light. Heat rolled through him like lightning. "Wow. What was _that_."

"You're gonna be wide awake for a while," Lin breathed into the space between them. "Sorry. I thought...are you sure?"

Jon vaguely remembered having reservations about this, once upon a time. He'd fretted over what would happen if they made it more than a joke. But what he'd seen since made those worries seem like nothing.

"Nope. Honestly, I don't know what to think. Except - I think I know you."

"You do," Lin said fervently. "I promise you do. Which is terrifying, by the way. I keep waiting for you to run away screaming and you just don't, and what am I meant to do with that?"

"You could've just not told me. Made something up instead of taking a risk."

"I didn't want to tell you. Not because of the risk - imagine putting all this on anyone. But you! You and your laser-beam eyes and your bone-melty smile. You're too charming. It's a problem."

Jon laughed in disbelief. "I can't believe you're saying that to me."

"Well, I am an expert," Lin said, with a lopsided grin. He caught Jon's hands in his own, and where he'd always run a little cold before, now his skin felt feverishly hot. "I wanted - it's silly. It's really silly."

"No, tell me."

Jon should've been worried, probably. He felt invincible. Nothing could faze him.

Lin ducked his head. "I wanted you to know, because it doesn't feel fair otherwise, you know what I mean? False pretenses and all that. I didn't want to do that to you. But it's not fair to make you deal with it either, is it? So I was stuck. I wanted you to know, and I wanted it not to matter. Silly."

"I mean, it matters. It has to matter," Jon blurted. Lin was the kind of person who made people fall in love with him - with the idea of him - instantly, which meant he was the type of person cynics suspected of being too good to be true. Somewhere deep down Jon must've been afraid of that, too, even though he'd never acknowledged it; of the existence of some dark secret. Except he couldn't see it as that, now that he knew. "What I'm trying to say is - I'm glad I know."

"Me too."

Lin's wide dark eyes filled with tears; he smiled so bright that the stage lights broke around him and the air warped around the stage for a split second before settling. His lips parted and it was the most obvious thing in the world to lean down and meet them, and to press closer and taste ozone and apricots and feel a crackle like static electricity everywhere their bodies touched.

Jon pulled away slowly, feeling punch-drunk and unsteady on his feet, all the breath gone out of his body. "Is that - optional? The fireworks?"

"They can be," Lin said. "Are you okay? Are we good?"

"Yeah. we're good. Just one thing."

"Anything for you."

"You never told me - you don't have to hang around, right? The guy who attacked us didn't. I know you're not the same, but I figured - "

"Oh, sure," Lin said easily, saving Jon from his metaphorical flailing. He let go of Jon's hands and pressed closer until Jon got the hint and put his arms around him, let Lin rest his head on Jon's shoulder. His breath was warm against Jon's collar. "You know I'm always happy to tell a story. That's what I do. Tell stories. I've done it forever."

 

 

"So. This is what happened."

 

 

_He'd been different, once, before he took the plunge and signed up for a mortal life. Living gentled him, and the story and the song came easier, and that was what mattered._

_In the beginning, he didn't remember the time before. The first time he saw death, when Melissa drowned, he couldn't understand why the world had gone grey. He'd been so small._

_Heights took it all, everything in him, and he didn't even realise. Finished the last edit, froze the show and he didn't even make it to the bed before he kneeled over and didn't wake up. Mortal life over. Not brutish but certainly short._

_He woke up 12 hours later with a burnt ring in the polished wooden floor under his body. Smell of smoke wafting through his apartment. 25 missed calls and 12 frantic voice messages on his phone. When he looked in the mirror his eyes glowed green. It took him a few tries to get them right again, and then he could really, properly see._

_A few years later, he met a lost, angry soul and made a deal just to get the stubborn asshole to move along. Before, he might have handled it very differently, but the person he was now saw the value of a kinder approach._

_There was so much dark in the world. He thought it could use a little more light._

_"When I'm finished everyone will know your name. I promise."_

**Author's Note:**

>   1. This fic was written for fightbackfic on tumblr.
>   2. If you've read other Ham RPF, this is probably obvious, but it needs saying: this fic owes a lot to other supernatural-themed Ham RPF fic. Thanks, guys.
>   3. [Hamiltome excerpt on the bead curtains](https://78.media.tumblr.com/58977c6438237e977c4986a8dc887918/tumblr_o5jooaKum11tdl0hro1_1280.jpg)
>   4. "We basically have an apartment together." [1](https://twitter.com/Lin_Manuel/status/616739129611714560) [2](http://stickmarionette.tumblr.com/post/167474972420/keepingupwithlinmanuel-when-asked-if-hed-ever)
>   5. Karen Olivo introduced Jon to Lin. [He talks about it in this podcast.](http://variety.com/2017/legit/news/jonathan-groff-mindhunter-stagecraft-podcast-1202600307/)
>   6. Surely you've seen this masterpiece, but just in case, [here's the promo video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ep0tpRqaZ4Y) Lin made for Heights with Groff.
>   7. Lin's talked about drunk-dialing really good friends at 3 in the morning. Sometimes he freestyles into their voicemails.
>   8. Jon talked about seeing Hamilton before he was in it for like a week straight and crying tons [in the first Hamilton BroadwayCon panel](http://jgroffdaily.tumblr.com/post/137840274608/jonathan-groff-i-didnt-know-what-hamilton).
>   9. [The story of One Last Ride](http://stickmarionette.tumblr.com/post/168536042500/keepingupwithlinmanuel-tommy-kail-talks-about)
>   10. [Lin teaching Renee twitter](https://twitter.com/ReneeGoldsberry/status/623142579480195073)
>   11. Lin's freestyle warm-up thing is for real too. Chris and Renee talk about it [on the same BroadwayCon panel I reference up there](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6iyKH1jReCA).
>   12. [Lin and Anthony and being yourself](https://www.colorlines.com/articles/broadway-newbie-anthony-ramos-rips-rules-hamilton)
>   13. [The pistol shaped cupcakes!](http://stickmarionette.tumblr.com/post/143249606037/jgroffdaily-deannashweiner-in-honor-of)
>   14. The description of the first Hamilton preview in the Hamiltome (in chapter 27) is really, really worth reading. My description is the least of it.
>   15. Lin has spoken in the past of being very aware of his mortality at a young age after a friend of his drowned at a very young age.
>   16. If this made you want Groff/Lin content, go browse my [Groff tag](http://stickmarionette.tumblr.com/tagged/jonathan%20groff).
>   17. "On Borrowed Time" was the name of Lin's college thesis musical.
> 



End file.
